Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Silas growled, eyes wild beneath wet hair.
Helena barely had time to react before he was off his horse and grabbing her reins.
“Let go!” she snapped, trying to back her horse, but he was already reaching for her arm, dragging her from the saddle.
“What in God’s name are you running from—or toward?” he shouted over the rain.
“Get off me!” she struggled, shoving at him. “I don’t have time for this!”
“You don’t have time to tell someone where the hell you’re going in the middle of a storm, alone, unarmed, no escort—?”
“I don’t need you to—”
“Don’t finish that sentence.” His voice was ice. “Because if I hadn’t found you, what then? What then, Helena?”
She tried to break away again, but he caught her and held fast. “You’re soaked through, you’ve clearly been riding for miles, and you thought, what? That I wouldn’t notice?”
A carriage rolled into view behind him, its oil lamps glowing in the grey mist.
She hesitated, breathing hard.
“Come with me. Now,” he said through clenched teeth.
“I can’t—”
“You will.”
He didn’t give her a choice. He picked her up, tossing her into the carriage before she could react. She hit the cushioned seat with a startled gasp as the door slammed shut behind her. Silas climbed in right after, knocking on the ceiling.
“To Highcliff,” he barked to the driver.
The carriage jerked forward.
Silas slammed the door behind him so hard the walls of the parlor seemed to flinch.
Helena stood in the middle of the room, soaked and trembling, not from cold anymore, but from fury, humiliation, and dread.
He threw his riding gloves onto the table, spinning to face her.
“Explain,” he snapped.
She didn’t speak right away. She was too busy unfastening her cloak, her hands clumsy from the lingering chill and adrenaline. She peeled it off and let it fall to the floor.
Silas stepped closer. “Now, Helena. Where were you going, and why in God’s name did you think it wise to sneak off like a thief in the night?”
“I didn’t sneak,” she bit out. “I left.”
“Without telling anyone, without guards, without a message—”
“Because you wouldn’t have let me go!”
His mouth opened in disbelief. “Damn right I wouldn’t have!”
She threw her hands in the air. “Exactly!”
Silas paced a few steps, running a hand down his face, trying, and failing, to rein in his temper. “What the hell is wrong with you? What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking about Charlie!” she shouted. “Because someone has to!”
Silas froze. His eyes narrowed. “What happened?”
She didn’t want to cry. Not in front of him. Not again.
But her fingers fumbled at the pocket of her gown, pulling out the now creased and slightly damp letter. She tossed it onto the table between them.
“Read it.”
He didn’t move. “What is it?”
“A letter from my uncle.” Her voice shook. “He has Charlie. He threatened to hurt him unless I come in person to ‘retrieve’ what my father left behind. I didn’t know what to do—I still don’t—I just—”
He grabbed the letter and read.
And as he did, the color drained from his face, slowly replaced by a terrible, simmering rage.
His voice, when it came, was low and lethal. “You didn’t think to show me this first?”
“I didn’t want to give you time to say no.”
“You’re damn right I would’ve said no!” He looked up, his jaw clenched. “This was a trap, Helena. Clear as day.”
“I know that now!”
He paced again, fists clenched at his sides. “You would’ve walked right into his hands. Alone. If I hadn’t stopped you—”
She whirled on him. “I was supposed to sit here and wait while my brother, my baby brother, was in danger? While that man, that monster, held him like leverage?”
“Yes,” Silas snarled. “You were supposed to sit here and let me handle it. Because if something happened to you—if he hurt you—”
His voice cracked. Just slightly.
Helena faltered.
“You think he’s the first murderer I’ve dealt with? The first treasonous bastard? I know exactly what I’m dealing with.”
“No. You do not. You think he’s just another villain but he’s not. He will do anything to save himself.”
Silas took a deep breath, trying to calm down and speak rationally but he was seething, angry at Helena for not trusting him, for almost getting herself hurt or, God forbid, killed, and for what?
She wasn’t capable of rescuing her brother on her own, but she insisted on acting as if she could.
“Can you not understand that you are not alone? Is the concept too much for you to grasp?” He poked at his own head in illustration.
She reared back, looking hurt. “Can you, just for one minute, see this as anything other than a commentary on your abilities? Are you unable to do that?”
He blew out a breath, looking around in anger. “We will not get anywhere like this.”
“Yes, we cannot seem to hear each other clearly. Perhaps we never could.”
He gave her a look. “I married you to keep you safe.”
“Yes, well, maybe I don’t care about safety. Did you ever bother to think about that? About what I needed?”
“All I think about is what you need!”
“No. You don’t,” she shook her head sadly.
He was unable to believe his ears. “Fine. Perhaps we should both worry about our own needs, rather than bothering the other.”
She nodded firmly, crossing her arms. “I agree.”
They stared at each other, both stubborn, both smarting from the words the other had said.
“Fine,” he said, storming out of the room, heading to his office.
He did not look back to see if she was following or not.
That was what she wanted. To do things her own way.
So, he would let her.
Shoulders slumped, misery making her eyes water, Helena moved to the corridor, and was immediately accosted by Amelia.
“Helena!” Amelia grasped her around the waist, “What happened?”
Helena sighed. “Nothing. Just…. nothing.” She gently put the girl away from her, “I’m tired. I need to rest. We’ll talk later.”
She sighed before going around Amelia and hurrying up the stairs.
She could feel her sister-in-law’s eyes on her the entire way, but didn’t look back. She didn’t have anything to say. All she wanted to do was lie down and forget for a while.
She was halfway regretting the fight she had with Silas. It wasn’t his fault that Uncle James was holding Charlie hostage, but she’d lashed out at him because he was the closest.
She knew she should apologize, but she had no desire to. She still felt upset, and angry, and scared. She wanted to know what Silas’s plan was, but she did not feel like speaking to him just yet.
She knew he wouldn’t want to speak to her.
She sat up on her bed with a sigh, staring out of the window. The rain had dissipated, giving way to sunlight and cloudy blue skies. It was ironically shaping up to be a lovely day.
She decided to go outside and sit in the sun, maybe read a book.
Nodding to herself, she got up and put on her slippers and a shawl. She snatched the book on her bedside table and headed for the door.
To her surprise, there was a footman standing right outside. He turned when she stopped short, staring at him in surprise.
“May I get you anything, Your Grace?”
She blinked at him, “No thank you.” She moved to step past him and he turned to follow her.
She stopped, and turned to look at him, “What are you doing?”
“His Grace said to make sure you didn’t go anywhere unaccompanied.”
Her eyebrows rose high. “I beg your pardon?”
“His Grace said—”
She held up a quelling hand. “I heard you the first time. What do you mean by that?”
“He said to make sure you were accompanied if you left your room, Your Grace.”
“What if I were going to visit the privy?”
The footman went red, ducking his head in embarrassment. “I…” he trailed off uncertainly.
“What? You didn’t seek to clarify?” Helena gave him a mock amazed look. “How remiss of you.”
“Y-Yes, Y-Your G—” The footman began to stammer incoherently.
Helena turned and resumed walking away. She did not have time for this.
As she marched down the stairs, she could hear the footman scrambling after her.
She walked out of the front door before circling around the house and heading for the gazebo.
She’d almost been ready to find Silas and apologize but this latest stunt, assigning a footman to watch her as if she was a misbehaving child, had just ramped up her anger to simmering levels.
“Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath.
She dropped onto the cold stone bench in the gazebo and opened her book.